She's Probably Fine
by Fiaba
Summary: Merlin isn't the best at reassuring Arthur while his wife is in labour. Arthur/Morgana


**Story Notes: Nice, happy, AU Arthur/Morgana futurefic. Enjoy. :)**

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Prince Arthur is in his chambers with Merlin, who is half-heartedly polishing a piece of armour. Both of them are distracted, and Arthur paces back and forth repeatedly. Merlin's eyes follow him as he sits down, gets up and paces back and forth again, his brow tightly furrowed with anxiety. Merlin feels compelled to say something in an attempt to ease the tension in the room.

"Er... why don't you sit down, sire? I'm sure she's doing just fin-"Merlin is cut off by a clearly audible groan coming from down the hall. Arthur stops in his tracks and turns a black look on his manservant.

"Shut up, Merlin." He snarls. Merlin is sure he just gnashed his teeth.

"Yes sire."

Neither of them speak for a few minutes and an anxious silence settles between them. Arthur resumes his pacing, and he glances through is open door down the hallway towards another wide wooden door right at the end every so often, clearly hoping someone will come out to inform him of what is occurring behind it. Nobody does, though, and Merlin feels the need to break the silence again.

"You know, I bet she's fine. It can't be that much longer, can it? She's probably... you know... just finishing up."

"_Finishing up?_ _What_ do you think is going on in there, a bloody boot-polishing party? That's my _wife _giving birth to my _child _in there. Now _shut up, _Merlin, or you'll spend the rest of your life chained to the stocks!"

"Er... yes sire." Merlin says meekly, and he sits heavily in one of Arthur's chairs, scuffing the ground with his worn boot. An anxious Arthur is even more difficult than an obnoxious Arthur, which is really saying something. Although the anxiety is fairly understandable. Childbirth is obviously a sensitive subject for the Prince, given the nature of his mother's death. Merlin prays that all will go well for _this _generation, because he knows Arthur would never be able to bear it if it did not.

Another low groan of effort and exertion cuts into the silence which has fallen again, and Arthur looks stricken. If it weren't such a tense situation, Merlin would have been pleased for the chance to make a witty comment about his doleful expression, but he decides it might not be a wise idea with Arthur being so highly strung.

"Where is that damned midwife?" Arthur snaps as the hardly-muffled sounds continue. He seizes a dining knife from his table and stomps back and forth, twisting it agitatedly. Merlin eyes him warily. "She's supposed to be keeping me informed!"

"Well... I think she might be a bit busy in there. You know... Delivering the-" Merlin begins helpfully.

"_I know what she's doing, Merlin" _Arthur swings around, brandishing the knife wildly. Merlin ducks, thinking the Prince might just lose control and fling it at his head or somewhere equally painful. Arthur glances at the knife in his hand, sighs, and tosses it haphazardly back onto the table. "Sorry," he says grudgingly.

"Er, that's all right."

"D'you think I can go in?" Arthur says distractedly. Merlin looks apprehensive, listening to the distinctly pained noises currently emanating from the room at the end of the hall.

"Well now might not be the most convenient time for them..." Merlin says, but Arthur doesn't seem to hear.

"Yeah. I'm going in." He says decisively, and before Merlin can say or do anything, Arthur is halfway down the corridor. Merlin dashes after him, alarmed, but the Prince is already knocking on the double doors, wincing at the loud screech which suddenly comes from behind it.

A very irritated-looking grey haired woman opens the door a crack, and Merlin backs away from the fierce look she turns on both him and Arthur.

"For pity's sake, Arthur, are you _aware _of what your wife is currently doing?" she snaps. Apparently usual courtly etiquette doesn't apply to this woman, for she wastes no time in scolding the Prince of Camelot like a little boy.

"Of course I know! I need to see she's all right."

"She's as well as she can be, but you absolutely have to go _away_, Arthur." The woman makes as if to close the door again, but another voice comes from inside.

"Is that Arthur?" the voice is strained and panting, but clearly heard. Arthur looks rather like a puppy who has just heard his master, for his eyes light up at the familiar voice and he looks pleadingly at the old woman. "Let him come in, Ellen," groans the voice.

The woman, Ellen, turns from the door, disapproving, and does not stand aside. She closes the door momentarily and a brief, hushed conversation ensues.

"You want him in here while you're like this?"

"Yes! He ought to be here! This is his fault!"

"But it's not proper-" the words are cut off by a shrill cry and several rough, panting breaths. There is a pause, followed quickly by a groan.

"Get Arthur in here right now!"

The door opens, and Arthur instantly rushes in. Merlin blinks, wondering what he's supposed to do now. He tries not to, but he half-glances through the door to see inside since the old lady is nowhere in sight. Presumably she is too busy with the birth to chase him off, and so he lingers in the doorway.

Eventually he sidles in warily, his eyes firmly fixed on the flagstone floor. Nobody seems to notice. He peeks around the screen which blocks the way, and he can see a glimpse of the small crowd assembled at the bed, upon which is the source of all Arthur's anxiety. He only glances for a second to check all is going well before he hastily retreats. It was enough for him to catch a glance at the lady herself.

Her long, dark hair is loose and tousled and slightly damp with sweat, and her face looks pale and strained, but she looks beautiful just the same. The next Queen of Camelot and Arthur's wife, the Lady Morgana. She's never been one for convention and nothing has changed today since Arthur is now not waiting outside during the birth of his child as he ought to be.

Instead he is sat with her on the bed, the sleeves of his loose shirt pushed up as he holds her against him, murmuring words of comfort as she grips his hands and strains to bring their baby into the world.

"Did I ever tell you I hated you, Arthur Pendragon?" Morgana gasps "Look what you've put me through!" She is shaking with the effort, and Arthur only pulls her closer, holding her hand and stroking her hair.

"You're nearly there now. Come on. Push push push!" exclaims a female voice brightly. It's the midwife, positioned at the end of the bed. She is a cheerful, stout lady who doesn't seem at all perturbed by what seemed to be a rather messy procedure, and she pats Morgana's leg encouragingly. Morgana doesn't look very encouraged though, and she glares at the woman before taking a deep breath and rallying her strength.

Suddenly, high pitched crying starts wafting from the bed, wailing in a tiny little voice. The royal baby had arrived. Merlin hears Arthur's delighted laugh, and he waits a few minutes before he dares to creep round the screen. What he sees would be enough to melt the hardest of hearts.

Morgana appears to be half laughing, half crying as she is handed a little bundle of soft blankets to cradle in her arms. Arthur is gazing down at it with the gentlest expression Merlin has ever seen on his face, seeming utterly enraptured. Morgana is leaning against him and his arms are around her, one hand moving to gently stroke the baby's cheek. They are a moment of pure peace and familial bliss in that instant and it makes Merlin feel awkward for intruding upon it.

They are so focused on the baby – understandably so – that they do not notice him loitering in the shadows. Arthur kisses Morgana's temple and she turns her face to him, her smile brilliant in spite of her pale and tired face.

"I'm so proud of you," Arthur murmurs. "I love you."

"Yes, well, you're going to have to convince me of that quite impressively after everything I just went through." Morgana sounds sleepy, but the playful tone still comes through. "You owe me for this. It was all your doing."

"Hey, last time I checked it took _two _of us to make this happen." Arthur replies softly, smiling as he smoothes the blankets.

"Mmm, well, I didn't see _you _screaming and pushing a baby through your-"

"Yes, all right, I agree. You amaze me. You always do." Arthur interjects hastily. Morgana laughs and shifts slightly. She leans in to kiss Arthur, and their lips are about to meet when Merlin takes a step back to try and leave without being noticed and trips over a bucket in the process.

"Aaargh!" He is sent sprawling with a loud yell and a thump. Arthur and Morgana both jump and the baby immediately starts wailing. Merlin looks up at them sheepishly and sees them staring at him like he's grown a second head.

"_Merlin! _Are you completely _mad? _What on _Earth _are you doing here?" Arthur exclaims incredulously.

"Uhh..." Merlin says, picking himself and clutching the bucket shiftily. "Cleaning?" He suggests with a hopeful smile. Arthur just stares at him like he's insane.

"Well. Ah, I'll just get out of your way..." Merlin says, looking guiltily at Morgana, who is occupied with soothing the crying baby .He starts to back out sheepishly.

"Merlin." Arthur says in that typical I-Don't-Think-So tone.

Merlin turns around and smiles warily.

"Well you might as well come in and meet our son then, hadn't you?" Arthur's tone is patronising, but he half-smiles at his manservant. Merlin thinks nothing will spoil his mood on this day, and he grins back, eagerly striding over to the bedside and peering down at the bundle in Morgana's arms. He has stopped crying and Morgana smiles at Merlin and turns slightly so the baby faces him.

Merlin looks down at the tiny face, pink and rather squashed-looking in an oddly endearing way. He grins broadly, and the baby squints up at him with newborn-blue eyes in an expression which, for a fleeting moment, Merlin thinks looks so much like Arthur that his own eyes widen. Maybe it was a trick of the light...

"He's beautiful." Merlin says sincerely. Arthur smiles proudly, fixated on his son, and he nods vaguely. "What are you going to call him?"

"Hmm. Arthur Junior?" Arthur says with a wink at Morgana.

"Ha ha. I don't think so. Remember who did all the work here?" Morgana interjects with a snort. Then she yawns tiredly, causing Arthur to raise his eyebrows and rise from his position next to her.

"Time you got some rest." He says tenderly. He reaches out for the baby and Morgana carefully and trustingly hands him to his father, smiling sleepily as she does.

Arthur kisses her cheek and holds the baby against himself without any of the awkwardness that one might expect from a new father. He stands, glancing up at Merlin as he adjusts his son carefully, and Merlin takes the hint. He bows slightly to each of them before turning to leave quietly.

As he walks out, Merlin can't help but glance over his shoulder to look at the little family again. It makes him smile to see Arthur, normally so cocky and powerful, stood with the tiny baby held reverently against his shoulder, softly rocking him, quiet as a lamb. Morgana is lying on her side, her eyes closing drowsily as she watches her husband and her son. They make such a beautiful scene of happy serenity today, and their son's arrival truly symbolises the flourishing Camelot which is yet to come.

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**Hope you liked. Reviewers get to name the baby. ;)**


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